Impure
by mavk4444
Summary: "I won't ever do that again." He promises. Sasuke's vision blurs, and he's aware of the tears forming in his eyes. They both know it's a lie.


**Warning: Rape.**

* * *

He didn't want him to touch him.

But yet he let him hitch his shirt up, running his fingers across his sides, chest, and stomach. He let him pull the edge of his jeans down before doing the same to his boxers. He let him rub tiny circles into the bare skin of his hip. He let him press his lips to his face, placing small feather-light kisses across the smooth skin. He let him suck on his neck, gently yet forcefully, until there was a mark that turned a deeper shade of red by the second.

Every time his lips touched his skin, his mind screamed at him to push him away. He never did. His hands rested calmly on his shoulders, slightly digging in when the other did something that caused him a minimal amount of pleasure. Every time his fingers brushed his skin, the area he skimmed over felt like it was burning. He felt like he was on fire as the heat spread back and forth through his extremities.

_Stop._

He wanted to say it. He felt the word on the tip of his tongue. A simple four-letter word with such a powerful meaning. His mouth moved silently. The word refused to come out, to make itself known to the other. As he finally felt it begin to move through his throat, a low rumble in his chest, his mouth was suddenly full. The object inside of his mouth swept over his teeth and gums, poked at his cheeks, and finally tangled with his tongue. It took him mere seconds to figure out what it was.

_His tongue._

The organ rubbed slowly against his before it moved on to the roof of his mouth. The hands on his body drifted lower, moving from his hips to his thighs, rubbing gently against them. He squeezed his eyes shut as he moved up to the button of his jeans, pushing it through the loop and undoing them. He heard the sound of his zipper being unzipped. His heart hammered loudly in his ears. He clenched his hands into fists on his shoulders, praying that he would notice.

"Relax," It was the only response he got. His husky voice sounded into his ear, sounding almost like a growl. He felt relieved that the other's tongue was finally out of his mouth, but his relief quickly washed away as he moved his hands back to his jeans, pushing them slightly past his hips.

"...Stop it." His voice was weaker than he intended it to be. It was quiet, so quiet that even he could barely hear it. But it was enough. The hands that had been dragging the fabric of his jeans against his thighs stopped, the lips that had been suckling at his neck stopped moving. It seemed as it time had stopped.

For a moment, he thought he had won. His rapidly beating heart slowed, and his eyes fluttered open. But when he saw the sight in front of him, he wished he had kept them closed.

The man in front of him war nothing like the man he loved. His eyes were a darker blue that he liked, red-rimmed and filled with coldness. The smirk on his lips was purely sinister, a complete opposite of the proud and triumphant one he usually wore. His hands, which he used to enjoy touching him, were now too rough. He gasped quietly as said hands gripped his hips firmly, and began to wonder if he was squeezing hard enough to bruise.

"No." He says, firmly. He moves his hands to the ones holding his hips painfully and pressed his fingernails into the large fingers. He pulled, an attempt to get the other to let go of him. But his grip only tightened, evoking a sound of pain. He moved his hands away to clutch tightly at the sheets covering the bed.

"Please," He begs, voice still weak and quiet. The other glared harshly at him, blue eyes narrowing.

"Why should I? You're mine. I can do whatever I want to you. I _own _you." As if to emphasize his point, he pulls him closer to his body, their faces centimeters apart.

"You're drunk." He whispers. The other looks at him harshly.

"So? Even if I was sober, we'd be in the same situation. Now lay back and relax." He growls, pushing him none too gently onto the bed.

His heartbeat picks up again as his jeans are pushed all the way down his legs. He watches with wide eyes as they are thrown carelessly to the ground. His shirt is next, ripped over his head roughly.

_Please,_ he thinks. _Somebody help me. Please._

He continues this like mantra inside his head. Sometimes, the beginning sound slips out. He clamps his mouth shut before the other notices.

He continues touching his body and pressing his lips insistently against his.

And just like every time before, no one comes to help him.

* * *

It's painful to move. His stomach, chest, and neck are littered with dark red marks. His thighs and hips, mostly his hips, have black bruises on them. They're in the shape of his hands. Every part of his body feels like it's encased in white-hot heat. He realizes painfully that he isn't wearing clothes.

He forces himself to get up. In the shower, he scrubs harshly at his skin. He tries to erase the feel of his hands on him, the feel of his lips marking every inch of his body painfully, the feeling of him savagely penetrating his body. But no matter how hard he scrubs, the feelings refuse to fade.

He dresses extremely slow, his muscles screaming in protest. He presses his lips into a thin line and finally slides his shirt on over his head. The doorbell rings, and he looks at it almost fearfully. He takes small cautious steps towards the front door. He peeps through the pane of glass on the sides and sees him. His head screams at him to walk away and make him think he isn't home. He desperately wants to, but his hand clutches the doorknob and twists it.

"Hello." He says quietly. His voice is hoarse. The other's eyes trail over his body, lingering on the hickeys he couldn't cover.

Suddenly, his face is pressed into a warm chest. Strong arms are wrapped around him, and he can faintly feel his head buried into the top of his own. His body is trembling, and he is vaguely aware that the other's is too.

"I'm so sorry Sasuke. I am so, so, sorry. I was drunk. I didn't mean to do what I did to you, I swear." He says. Sasuke stays limp in his arms. Finally he pulls away, blue eyes raking over him again. "Oh God. Fuck, I can't believe I did that to you."

Sasuke looks at the ground as he speaks.

"It's okay, Naruto. You didn't do anything wrong." He says. Naruto looks at him in disbelief.

"Sasuke," He begins, slowly. "I _raped_ you. How is that not wrong?" He asks. He stares at Sasuke like he's crazy. Sasuke avoids his gaze, continuing to stare at the ground.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He mumbles again, quieter. He looks up slowly. Naruto still looks shocked. He shakes his head and pulls Sasuke into another hug. Sasuke forces his arms to move and wrap around Naruto's back.

"I won't ever do that again." He promises. Sasuke's vision blurs, and he's aware of the tears forming in his eyes.

They both know it's a lie.


End file.
